Any Way You Cut It, Meat Rules At Carvers

June 18, 1993|By PRUE SALASKY Daily Press

At one time Carvers' specialties of prime rib and steaks signified mainstream dining. Now that menus have changed to reflect a lighter, more health-conscious dining style, the chain that traded under the name Mountain Jack's until last September has the air of a club for red meat-eaters. Here they can indulge guilt-free with likeminded diners.

"The best prime rib in town," as it advertises itself, comes in a petite cut ($12.95), standard cut ($14.95) and a house cut ($17.95). The petite cut is also served in combinations ($15.95) with Alaskan snow crab legs, tempura shrimp, swordfish and lobster. In conjunction with three butterflied, battered shrimp, the small cut of prime rib was ample. The observant server noted that the meat was not cooked to specification, whisked it away and returned a few minutes later with a rare, tender cut served au jus. A light, uninspired horseradish mixture and cocktail sauce also accompanied the surf and turf dish along with rice pilaf, actually white rice flecked with just a few grains of wild rice.

From the "signature steak collection" the brandy-Dijon filet mignon ($14.95) also had to be returned before achieving a satisfactory appearance. In this case a request for medium-rare brought a steak that was almost raw; again the error was rectified quickly and without fuss. The sauce of sauteed mushrooms in brandy, mustard and cream made a delicious, rich topping. A choice of Parmesan-topped grilled tomatoes as an accompaniment lightened the meal considerably.

Other steak choices include a center cut top sirloin, a New York strip, filet mignon served various ways and a 20-ounce porterhouse.

Every dinner includes a cup of soup, a salad, a vegetable and fresh hot bread. A loaf of honey-wheat bread was the first of the bounty to arrive at the table. Then the soup, a peppery corn chowder with bacon and potatoes, started off the meal. The salad service allows patrons a modicum of choice: The server brings all the ingredients to the table and then builds a salad to order. To the base of iceberg and Romaine lettuces, the diner can add anything (or everything) from a dozen selections including tomatoes, cucumbers, sprouts, cheese, bacon, mushrooms and croutons.

The size of the meal is such that there's little call for the appetizer selection of shrimp, potato skins, crab cakes, crab-stuffed mushrooms and a lobster turnover. The beef alternatives - seafood, chicken and lamb - are there to accommodate those who don't eat red meat rather than as a draw in themselves.

The desserts ($3.25) continue the escapist theme of the restaurant in their huge, high-calorie portions. Cheesecake on an Oreo crust had the added confection of cream and chocolate shavings and a carrot cake came in three layers with a mass of walnuts and cream cheese.

The persistent suggestion that we order drinks was offensive and marred otherwise skilled, if overbearing, service. In what is standard practice for most chains, special occasions are honored with complimentary beverages.

The dining rooms are separated from the bar area by the lobby and divided into small eating areas which allow a measure of privacy. Plastic hanging plants and hunting prints do nothing to disguise the typical chain decor of comfort without character.

The format of a complete meal keeps prices higher than average while presenting more food than most are now accustomed to eating. For those with hearty appetites and a hankering for red meat it's still a reasonable arrangement.